Working on an accessibility-focused UI was one of the most eye-opening projects I’ve done as a student. At first, I thought accessibility just meant adding bigger text or high-contrast colors, but I quickly realized it goes far deeper. My goal became creating an interface that anyone could use comfortably—no matter their abilities, devices, or conditions. Achieving that meant rethinking a lot of assumptions I’d made about design.

I started by researching common accessibility guidelines, like WCAG standards, and studying examples of inclusive interfaces. It was surprising how many small things can affect usability: low-contrast buttons, icons without labels, unclear focus states, touch targets that are too small, or animations that might trigger motion sensitivity. I began seeing these issues everywhere, even in apps I used daily.

The design process changed completely once I adopted an accessibility-first mindset. I created scalable typography, added robust keyboard navigation, and ensured every interactive element had a clear visual and screen-reader-friendly purpose. I learned how important things like hierarchy, spacing, consistent patterns, and predictable behavior are for users who rely on assistive technologies.

Color was another big challenge. I wanted the UI to look modern and appealing, but color contrast requirements sometimes clashed with aesthetic ideas. Finding a balance taught me a lot about designing with intention—every shade and highlight needed a reason. I also introduced alternate themes, including high-contrast and dyslexia-friendly modes, so users could switch to what worked best for them.

Testing was the most valuable part. I asked classmates with different needs to try the interface, and their feedback was incredibly insightful. Some struggled with navigation flow, others with button placement or text readability. Every round of testing revealed issues I didn’t even think to check for, which made the project feel like constant discovery and improvement.

By the end, I had a UI that felt genuinely inclusive—not perfect, but thoughtfully built. The project changed how I approach design in general. Instead of adding accessibility at the end as an extra feature, I now see it as the foundation of good design. Making a product more accessible doesn’t limit creativity; it pushes you to create experiences that work for everyone. And as a student, realizing that my work could actually make technology more welcoming was incredibly rewarding.